


Sharp Pains

by w4rl0rd



Category: Glanni Glæpur í Latabae, LazyTown
Genre: Biting, I had a thought that involves ipro and niPPLE PIERCINGS SO, I had to mark it as sportarobbie bc glanni/ipro wouldn't come up soz, M/M, NSFW, PWP, it's just them two not like normal lazytown btw, literally just porn I'm so sorry, rough sex ¿
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 22:36:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8915656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w4rl0rd/pseuds/w4rl0rd
Summary: Glanni Glæpur is disgusting.Disgustingly vile, yet so fucking intriguing.Íþróttaálfurinn is somehow worse.{juuust sex, soz}





	

 

A vicious growl played out from Glanni's throat as he squinted his eyes at the town proclaimed 'hero' stood infront of him. 

"It's laaaate, and I'm  _tiiired_ , surely you can spare a pretty little gal like me tonight..?" 

The fluttering of his eyelashes, and the flick of his tongue against his lazily lipsticked lips seemed to mimic flattery and flirt, but was defiantly a threat and nothing more. 

A threat that Íþróttaálfurinn had heard many times before, in many different ways. None of which conveyed any sort of meaning to the hyperactive elf. Glanni Glæpur was nothing but a bluffing villain, a criminal with no morals.

But Glanni knew that he meant more to Íþró, more than he'd ever admit. Not in a loving way of course, but images of the leather-clad villain curled around his cock often circled his mind and distracted him at nights. 

Íþróttaálfurinn's face scrunched up momentarily, shaking off the thoughts that plagued him in incredibly inconvenient situations, and instead looked back up again at- 

Ah. The same man who caused him those thoughts. 

Fuck.

"You're being too kind to yourself." Íþró took a stride forward, causing Glanni to gulp and press himself back against the brick wall of the alleyway he'd stupidly ran into. 

"If you were a  _pretty little gal_ as you said, maybe I'd be nicer." 

The shorter male, using the advantage of Glanni being slumped down against the wall, looked down and grinned. 

"But you're just the same,  _filthy_ fuck I have to deal with every night."

While he also hated to admit it, the ever so boisterous villain found himself often biting into his palm in the dead of morning, surpressing noises trying to come out his pink flushed mouth as he palmed himself off to words Íþróttaálfurinn had spoken to him previously. He often let his mind wander to what'd happen if he let Íþró actually dominate him, making the mouthy brat his. 

Now was the wrong time. Again.

Those words, however. They rang through Glanni's head like a bell. The emphasis, how his voice slowed on the word _filthy_... 

He hissed, lunging forward and placing his grubby hands on Íþróttaálfurinn's cheeks, kissing him roughly.

The aggression caught Íþró off guard, and the slight backward steps was indicative of so. Nevertheless, the stronger of the two pushed forward upon Glanni, leaning his body weight onto him to close proximity between them. 

Years of pent up fantasies about each other seemed to have manifested themselves into this one moment, and either couldn't keep their hands off one another. 

Between breathy moans and groans, Glanni's eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut tight. All the big talk he had in him fleeted immediately, the hot feeling spreading through his legs taking over. 

Quietly mewling, he let one hand trail down from Íþró's face, to his rock abs, to his equally hard tent through his trousers. His mind clouded again, full of nothing but what he could do with that cock in his control. Íþróttaálfurinn shuddered at the delicate hand swirling circles in the fabric against his pelvis, quickly growling and moving to bite Glanni's bottom lip.

Glæpur shook, yelping and clinging onto Íþró's shoulder in recoil.  

"F-Fuck you..." he gritted through busied lips.

Íþróttaálfurinn hummed, a mock laughter, before kissing him again. 

This time it wasn't as reckless, but deep. Deep enough to strike new feelings from both of them. Ambition. 

Glanni pulled away, unable to wait, and sank to his knees to the gravel floor. He shot Íþró a look, quickly working on pulling his trousers down. 

Biting his own lip this time, Íþróttaálfurinn used a hand to run through Glæpur's thick, raven hair, making sure to maintain a strong yet gentle grip on his head.

Glanni purred as he nuzzled against his stomach, sparing not one thought as he wrapped his plump lips around Íþró's tip, locking eyes with him to intimidate him. 

And  _fuck,_ did it work. 

Before he knew it, Íþró's cheeks were stained red, flustered but trying to not let this disconcerting villain take heed. To establish roles, he thrust his hips up slightly, causing Glanni to hiss and glare up at the fit man. 

Shutting his eyes to let himself focus, Glanni ignored the impatient man currently buried in his mouth and decided to take things at his own pace, longingly running his tongue up his length, small purrs from his throat causing little vibrations that made Íþróttaálfurinn groan.   
  
He aimed to tease, purposefully not moving at a speed to match the elf's libido. This in turn was driving Íþró  _mad,_ as he yearned to choke the slimy bastard below him. Knowing it was all a test of tolerance, he remained still and accepting to his sly game.   
  
This annoyed Glæpur more than it should've. The whole point was to make Íþróttaálfurinn ravage beneath him, into a fit of moans and uncertainty.   
But all he got instead was a warm, slightly sinister smile from above. Which, managed to cause a twist in Glanni's gut.   
  
Attempting to remain intimidating, Glanni pushed his length down his throat, nose brushing against Íþró's pelvis. This worked, as Íþró flinched and gave out a soft grunt from the warmth.   
  
Glæpur smiled slightly from the reaction, before pulling off him completely with an obscene wet noise. He licked his lips, a purr audible.  
  
Unable to take the friction, the deprived elf shoved Glanni back again against the brick, lifting his legs to suspend him against the wall.   
  
Being off the ground freaked the leathered villain out, and he involuntarily clung onto the strong biceps pinning him in place for support.   
  
This display of panic drew a hearty chuckle out of Íþróttaálfurinn.

**Author's Note:**

> ok like ... this said it was gonna delete tomorrow so i have to post it and just chapter it i guess.  
> im So sorry this is incomplete but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


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